


Treehouse of Terror

by ladyshakespeare



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Halloween, Haunted Houses, Ichabbie Forever, Ichabbie Halloween, Ichabbie Holidays, Ichabbie Holloween, Ichabbie is still endgame, Idiots in Love, Love, Love Confessions, Pulled this story out of storage, ichabbie - Freeform, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24626386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyshakespeare/pseuds/ladyshakespeare
Summary: Abbie and Ichabod visit a haunted house and that gives him the courage he needs to confess his feelings for her.
Relationships: Ichabod Crane/Abbie Mills
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Treehouse of Terror

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this about 5 years ago and just found it. Perhaps I should have waited closer to Halloween to post it, but I was worried I might forget.

Ichabod smiled. He was watching Abigail Mills intently. She was absolutely thrilled and terrified to be here, in this haunted house. She gripped his hand as they made their way through the “Treehouse of Terror.” A mechanical dog jumped out at them and Abbie screamed again. The black lights lit her chocolate skin up and she positively glowed. 

Rounding a corner, she jumped over a “dead” body and laughed. Ichabod chuckled.

Abigail Mills loved Halloween. 

She thought it was so much fun to dress up and scare people. That’s why she insisted on visiting haunted houses every year. And Ichabod Crane could not deny her.

Nor did he want to.

In all honesty, he did not understand the fascination with haunted houses or Halloween. Seriously, who in their right mind would _want_ to be scared out of their wits? It was insane. Yet, people in modern times do. And that included his lieutenant.

And so, of course, he was standing beside her as they made their way through the “Room of Doom.”

“Look at that pretty lady,” a demon squealed.

“Hey, sir. You look like you could join us,” another one piped up. Ichabod raised an eyebrow.

“Why don’t you both stay awhile? I guarantee it’ll be a _killer_.”

Abbie laughed again as they pushed their way through. She gripped Ichabod’s hand again and glanced up at him. He looked down at her warmly.

_Those eyes._

She had long admitted to herself that she was irrevocably in love with her tall partner. He was a man out of time, a dashing, sexy man who had awoken in this century and had to learn to live again. Live with modern times, modern stuff. Live because he had to.

Ichabod lived because of her.

Whilst he was unaware of Abigail Mills’ feelings for him, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was madly in love with her. He always had been. When he awoke in this century, she was the first person that believed him. The first person he trusted. In truth, he thinks they were always connected to each other, even when 200 years separated them.

His feelings for her had only increased over time.

They were separated for six months while she worked on a case out of state. Ichabod thought he might go mad without her. They talked every chance they could get, but it was not enough for him. He wanted her with him always. He wanted to look into her beautiful brown eyes, run his own eyes over her silky brown skin, feel her warmth next to him. Like he did now. 

He pulled her closer to him, happy that the haunted house allowed him the chance to do so.

At times he worried what would happen if she knew his true feelings. Other times, he couldn’t care less. He was a man, made of flesh-and-blood. He had ten fingers and ten toes, a scar on his chest to represent where the Horseman of Death had sliced him, and an ever-increasing desire for the young lieutenant. These feelings were getting harder and harder to hide.

And he didn’t want to anymore.

He knew he was taking a risk, putting their role as Witnesses in jeopardy by telling her how he felt. He knew he should keep himself in check, but it had become impossible to do so. He was madly in love with her. He had to tell her or he would burst.

He just had to find the right time.

As they finished up in the Treehouse of Terror, they were sprayed with water. Soaking wet and laughing, they emerged from the building and onto the dirt road.

“Oh man,” Abbie said, laying her hand on his chest to balance herself while laughing. “That was so great.”

“Indeed, lieutenant. I almost want to go for another round.” Ichabod brushed some wet hair out of his eyes.

Abbie looked into his blue eyes that were now visible. “That would be fun, but I believe there is a pint calling our names.”

Ichabod nodded and took her hand. Now that they were not in the haunted house, there was no reason for them to be so close. But Ichabod didn’t care and Abbie didn’t mind. They walked to the car and Abbie pulled blankets out.

“As an officer of the law, I keep blankets for certain situations” she explained to Ichabod’s eyebrow. He smiled and took the larger one from her, brushing his fingers over hers. The electricity between them increased monumentally. Abbie blushed.

He wrapped the blanket around himself and began to dry off. Then he had an idea. He also wrapped Abbie in the same blanket, trapping her against him. He knew he was playing with fire now, but he had reached the point of no return.

Her heartbeat spiked and the British man noticed. 

“Crane?” Abbie said as she drew in a breath. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to warm you up, lieutenant.”

She placed both her hands on his chest gently, but didn’t push him away. “I was doing alright on my own.”

He nodded. Then he closed his eyes and swallowed. He was going to need a lot of strength for what he was about to do.

Screams from behind them as the Treehouse of Terror “claimed” another victim. Abbie giggled.

He slowly opened his eyes. Her eyes met his. They were absolutely beautiful. He had never seen brown eyes with so much depth before. Her eyes were the reason he fell in love with her in the first place. When she looked at him inside his prison cell, they were warm and friendly, although also stern. He realized that she hid behind a shell, but she couldn’t hide behind her eyes. They really were the windows to the soul and he saw everything there.

She smiled warmly at him. His blue eyes were also expressive. They told her everything she needed to know. His eyes told her how high of regard he had for her, but she completely missed the signs. 

“Abbie….”

“Yeah, Crane?” He swallowed again. _Here goes nothing._

“Abbie, I wanted to let you know that you have become very important to me.”

She smiled. “You’re important to me too.”

He nodded. “But you don’t know _how_ important. I realize I am risking my heart here, not to mention our friendship, but frankly, I’m tired of hiding.”

Abbie raised an eyebrow. She was intrigued by his comment “I am risking my heart here.” What did THAT mean?

“Crane?”

She could feel his heartrate increase with her hands against his chest. Hers was pounding in her ears. His breathing was heavy. A big confession was on its way.

“Abigail Mills, I have been in love with you from the moment we met.” He whispered the confession, so as not to break the spell that encircled them.

Abbie’s mouth turned dry and she stared into his blue eyes.

_What?_

The silence stretched on. Ichabod was growing uncomfortable under her gaze. But he held firm. She _needed_ to know the truth, even if it meant she’ll push him away.

Suddenly, Abbie reached up and placed her left hand behind his neck. She pulled him to her and kissed him. Sparks flew and the electricity was off the charts. He pulled her impossibly closer as she ran her hand through his hair.

“Ichabod,” she murmured against his lips.

“Lieutenant,” he replied and deepened the kiss.

_I can’t believe he feels the same way about me._

They broke for air and pressed their foreheads together. Ichabod smiled. He had imagined that kiss in so many ways, but nothing was better than reality.

“Abbie?”

She shushed him with her finger against his lips. He kissed that finger. Then he kissed her again. All he wanted to do was kiss her nonstop. The haunted house roared with life from the patrons and actors inside, yet all Abbie and Ichabod focused on was each other.

Wet, wrapped in blankets outside of a haunted house on a chilly night in October, the Witnesses just took a major step in their relationship. Abbie sighed happily and whispered to him, words that would stay with him forever.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
